


StarCraft Chronicles: A Compendium of One-shots

by mavericklaw



Category: StarCraft
Genre: Aldaris' Rebellion, Amon's Death, Brood War, Duran's Betrayal, End War, Escape to Shakuras, Gen, Great War, HotS, Kerrigan's Duplicity, Kerrigan's Rise, LotV, Mar Sara Crisis, One Shot Collection, Pacification of the Zerg, Precursors Campaign, Raynor's Raiders, Rescuing Zeratul, Return to Char, Scouring of Chau Sara, Tassadar's Sacrifice, The Antigan Revolt, The Battle for Aiur, The Battle for Korhal, The Dark Templar, The Defense of Shakuras, The Fall of Tarsonis, The Four Year Peace, The Hunt for Tassadar, The Hunt for Uraj & Khalis, The Invasion of Aiur, The Overmind's Death, The Protoss Civil War (Ep III), The Psi Disrupter, The Queen of Blades, The UED Campaign, UED Defeat, WoL - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mavericklaw/pseuds/mavericklaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shot short stories set in the StarCraft universe, featuring familiar faces and new characters. Stories will be set throughout the StarCraft continuity. As such, stories are not chronologically ordered. Chapters do not have any connections with other chapters, unless otherwise stated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remembering Tarsonis

As the klaxons blared and the citizenry panicked under the darkening skies, the zerg descended upon the thriving world of Tarsonis.

The Sons of Korhal had ultimately dealt the killing blow to the mighty Confederacy, turning their most secretive weapon - a means to control the zerg, an instrument to demonstrate their power over all of Terran Space - against them. To some, it felt like the legend of Sodom and Gomorrah repeating itself: God striking down the corruption, the debauchery, the injustice, that the Confederacy wrought unto their fellow men and women in its quest for glory.

Was it a fitting end? Perhaps. Arcturus Mengsk justified the use of psi-emitters against them for the sake of avenging Korhal. Then again, many would say he was already spiralling into a delirious, power-crazed dream of uplifting the terran race, a tyrant in the making. Out of the ashes of one dictatorship, another would rise in its place.

But the fall of Tarsonis was not something that could easily be forgotten. With the revelation of Mengsk's orders to deploy the psi-emitters, the backlash was widespread. Who would have believed that the supposed saviour of all Terrankind had perpetrated the most heinous war crime against his own people? And it was all in the name of "stability" and "peace". Such irony.

The zerg descended in the millions, if not billions. The orbital platforms fell as they valiantly fired upon the hordes of monstrosities that made their way into the planetary atmosphere. Wraith pilots vainly cut through flocks of mutalisks, only to be utterly annihilated under the sheer amount of zerg that arrived. Battlecruisers fired salvos from their laser batteries, and even then their awesome firepower still could not hope to make a dent in the zerg invasion. Transports ferried troops to support the faltering platform defenses, but it was all in vain. As the last of the defenders died, and the last battlecruiser left a floating wreck, perpetual detonations ripping it from the inside, there was little hope left for the planet.

By the time the Sons of Korhal had departed the Tarsonis system, millions more zerg creatures had spilled forth from throngs of overlords and spore sacs that fell from the zerg behemoths that ferried the terrestrial zerg strains to Tarsonis. It didn't matter that the anti-air batteries cut down hundreds of overlords and sacs before they could reach the surface. For every loss they suffered, the zerg replaced it five-fold. The Confederates fought valiantly, all the way to the end, but the ferocity of the zerg could not so easily be quelled. They fought in the streets, in the buildings, in grassy plains; wherever the zerg were, there were Confederate troops standing their ground, holding the line, not giving an inch to the invaders as the abominations sought to purge all life on the terrans' homeworld. And yet, many faltered in their fears, their fear of death and failure overriding all rational sense. But no one could escape the jaws of death; hundreds of thousands died swiftly or brutally or slowly, while others died another death, returning as loyal, infested servants of the zerg.

Where once Tarsonis was a symbol of decadent grandeur in the bleak, conflict-prone Koprulu Sector, it now became a symbol of the frightening power of the zerg unleashed, and that of brutal genocide at the hands of Mengsk himself when the horrific truth was discovered.

We can only speculate on what had transpired the day an entire planet died. We will never know the final moments of Tarsonis as its people were brutally exterminated. After the zerg departed from the barren world, no one dared return for fear of tempting the return of the swarm. Tarsonis remained lifeless for many more years until the Dominion established its presence there. Even till today, apart from the damning recording of Arcturus Mengsk, there has still been no discovery of lost footage or recordings of the fall of Tarsonis. But would we be able to stomach it? The Sector barely survived the onslaught of bloody conflicts that ravaged terran worlds all across Terran Space. We had come so close to extinction under a brutal enemy that threatened the stability of the galaxy. And in such a vulnerable time, many returned to discuss the fate of Tarsonis - and if terrankind would actually die out someday in the near future, the subject of a war of extermination by far greater powers than ourselves.

It makes you question your own mortality. And your sanity, as well.

Tarsonis remains a ghost world till today. A small tribute stands beyond the ruins of Tarsonis City, the former planetary capital, in honour of the millions of lives lost - brave men and women who held out despite the odds against an insurmountable foe, and for the innocent lives lost as well, those who could not defend themselves and suffered a grim death. It is said that Emperor Valerian has plans to rebuild Tarsonis and have it serve as a hub of enlightenment much like Tyrador XIII, though this still remains mere speculation on the media's part. If anything, the ghosts of the past are not so easily erased; perhaps Valerian is aware of his the blood on his late father's hands, and wants to do something, however small, to atone for the sins Arcturus had committed.

Regardless, let us not forget Tarsonis. Though the Confederacy was a most hated entity for its vices against the people it had sworn to protect, it was still made up of individual people - many of them who may not have shared in the deplorable goals of the Old Families. When Tarsonis died, a part of our collective humanity died as well. Let us not lose all that makes us human.

 _Stephen Preston is a senior correspondent for the Umojan Tribune_.


	2. Aiur has Fallen

"Executor, I have located the warp gate. We must hurry and evacuate the Khalai survivors before the Zerg return!"

It didn't take a telepath for Jim Raynor to sense Zeratul's urgency. A massive wave of zerg was rapidly approaching the perimeter, a mindless tide of ravenous beasts who only sought to kill and devour whatever it was that got in its path. It won't be long before they got here, and the protoss were already running out of options.

The protoss could no longer call Aiur their home. Though Tassadar's sacrifice was not in vain, the death of the Overmind had ultimately spelled the doom of their great homeworld. Warp gates across the planet now took them to the Dark Templar's very home, Shakuras, where they would forge a new home for themselves among their former brethren, a broken race now reunited. Raynor could only wonder if that would be easy. He saw the animosity the Conclave had for Zeratul; could old hatreds be healed in these desperate times? That was something Raynor knew he could never answer.

But enough recollection: the zerg were coming. And Raynor knew what he had to do. Beside him, the massive dragoon exoskeleton that housed the ruined frame of the heroic Praetor Fenix, a great warrior and Raynor's closest friend amongst the protoss, strode confidently to Raynor's side. He was certain that Fenix had come to the same conclusion, and he smiled mostly to himself.  _Guess there's just the one thing to do, but at least I won't be alone_.

He turned to face Zeratul, the warrior's warp blade ignited and ready to strike whatever came too close between salvation and death. "Just worry about getting your people through the gate, Executor. Fenix and I will hang back and protect our flank until everyone is through."

Zeratul's eyes widened. "There are too many of them, Commander Raynor. You and Fenix will not survive this onslaught. Come with us while there is still time!"

Raynor shook his head. "I've faced situations like this before, Zeratul. We don't have much of a choice left. We can buy you guys some time before the zerg hammer us hard; if we don't do this nobody's gonna be able to see another day."

"Commander Raynor is correct," Fenix chimed in, stepping closer to the both of them. "We will be able to fend off the zerg long enough that they will not harm the transports and the rest of the refugees. Is there not greater glory than to sacrifice for the greater good of our people, wise Prelate?"

Raynor smiled confidently. "The old timer agrees with me. So you guys and gals had better get going, pronto."

Zeratul shifted uncomfortably, gazing once at the zerg horde encroaching and then again to both Raynor and Fenix. With a sigh, he deactivated his weapon, and placed a hand on Raynor's shoulder pauldron. "I pray that you two will emerge unscathed from this. I will ensure that we do all we can to recover the both of you, however we can."

Raynor nodded with a chuckle. "You do that, pal. Now get going, Fenix and I have a welcoming committee to prepare."

Zeratul nodded in return. "Good luck, Commander, Praetor. _Adun toridas_."

As the dark templar started to hurry for the Warp Gate, Aldaris - standing beside the Prelate up until now - gazed into Raynor's eyes, something that rather unnerved him (what  _is_ it with this guy?), before he finally nodded wordlessly and followed in Zeratul's footsteps. Other protoss passed them by, some of them also offering their own silent gestures of thanks to Raynor and Fenix.

Raynor sighed as he watched them disappear as they stepped into the gate's energy field. "You think they'll be alright?" he asked his companion.

"With so many great leaders, I am sure that my people will do well once they arrive on Shakuras."

"You think they'd accept your people? I mean, I don't know much about your history and all, 'cept for what I saw when we had to face Aldaris, but I get that there's a lot of bad blood between your people and the dark templar. Hell, Aldaris himself showed me that much right up until we took on the Overmind."

Fenix turned away and moved towards the few zealots that were now awaiting both of them close to the base of the Warp Gate, Raynor following closely beside the mighty dragoon. "Scars heal in time, Raynor, this I believe as much. Zeratul's willingness to help us in our greatest time of need has only made me realize that despite our differences, we are still one people, and our love for Aiur will be the uniting factor that can bridge this great divide between our cultures."

"I never thought you'd be much of a man of culture," Raynor wryly remarked.

Fenix grunted disapprovingly. "I am a man of action, true, but I know very well that there are times when words are an individual's greatest asset."

"Right."

As they approached the zealots, who had already turned to face them with great eagerness, a few marines under Raynor's command also came up to join the group. The zealots welcomed them with curt nods, and some marines replied in turn while they saluted Raynor.

"Looks like we got ourselves quite the fighting force," Raynor quipped with a wry smile.

"We're with you, sir," one of the marines chimed in with a hearty fist pump.

A few low beeps on his comm notified him of Matt Horner's incoming call. "What up, Matt?"

"Sir, I've the Hyperion all prepped for combat; gunnery tells me that we've got enough energy stored to fire one Yamato blast at the incoming zerg wave, enough that we can thin out the horde by a significant percentage. Also-"

Raynor sighed. "Matt, I want you to take the Hyperion out of here; follow the group to Shakuras, get to some place safe. If I make it out of this alive, I'll be sure-"

"Sir, you know I'm  _not_ leaving you behind. After Char-"

"Dammit, Matt, just listen to me! I know you'll do all you can to keep me outta the frying pan, but I know what I'm doing right now. I gotta do this. At least it'll do me right by the protoss for saving us from certain death when we got stranded on Char."

"Sir, I can't let you go on your own. We _all_ owe the protoss our lives, and-"

"That's an _order_ , Matt. You  _will_ follow my orders, and you  _will_ take the rest of our boys to Shakuras. Even if you don't plan on staying, at least you and the rest of the group will be alright, and you'll have some time to assess the damage, take inventory, the whole lot of it. There are a whole lotta other battles that need to be fought, especially the ones that involve the Dominion. And I can count on you to get the job done if anything ever does happen to me."

"But-"

"Not a word else, Matt! Now take the rest of the Raiders and get to safety. I'll be sure to contact you if we make it out of this alive."

Silence. Then a half-hearted sigh.

"Roger that, sir. Be careful down there."

"'Careful' is my middle name, Matt."

The line cut, and Raynor returned his attention to the troops around him. They had all taken up ready positions, and Raynor could feel the ground tremble as the zerg strode onwards towards them. The battle would soon begin in earnest, and Raynor knew very well it would be far more intense than their attack on the Overmind. It was an all-or-nothing gambit.

He hefted his gauss rifle, and took his place in between Fenix and a marine armed with a rocket launcher.

"What's your name, son?" Raynor asked the trooper.

"Keller, sir."

"You been a Raider long?"

"I was there when you stole the _Hyperion._ Never looked back since. Fought beside you on Char, too. Nearly died there if not for you, sir."

Raynor nodded. "Thanks for being here, then. Means a lot to me."

"You stood beside us all the time, sir; we're with you to the very end."

Fenix then chimed in. "The zerg will be upon us within the next few moments, friend Raynor. I hope you are prepared."

"Permission to speak, sir?" Keller suddenly asked.

Raynor nodded. "Shoot."

"Are you... are you afraid of dying?"

Raynor smiled. "To tell the truth, I am. Scares the heck outta me. But... knowing that I'd die doing the right thing, standing up for what's good? I'd die a happy man, Keller. It's good enough reason."

"It is a good day to die," Fenix added proudly.

"I'd drink to that," Raynor mumbled to himself.

"Blades ready!" a zealot cried out as he and his brethren engaged their psi blades. Already the first wave of zerglings were descending upon them, their cries for blood thundering before them, mixed with the other ululations of the myriad of zerg monstrosities swarming towards them. Raynor cocked his gauss rifle, and aimed down the sights, his trigger finger itching to let loose a barrage of metal and fire...

 _Yes, this_ is  _a good day to die._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is merely an extrapolation of mine on what happened to Raynor and Fenix as they defended the Warp Gate while Zeratul, Artanis and Aldaris led the Khalai survivors to find refuge on Shakuras. The canon didn't really clarify the facts; if anything, what transpired during and after the defense (until they chose to stay behind on Aiur) is mere speculation. This will be part 1 of a 2-episode short story arc.
> 
> The Executor who led the Protoss forces throughout Brood War's Episode IV will not be identified here, and will have no speaking role, given the Executor's ambiguity. I am ruling out Selendis owing to her formal introduction to Raynor during the events of Wings of Liberty (the Haven infestation/rescue crisis).


	3. General Duke's Last Stand

_So... this is how I die_.

 _Figures_ , General Edmund Duke thought, tossing the butt of his cigar away as he stood behind his men, the scrabbling of zergling claws echoing down the corridor as they made their way to Duke and his men. _It was either this, or getting killed by rebels, or worse: dying in my sleep_.

Then again, Edmund Duke was not someone who would just die in his sleep. But anything goes in this crazy galaxy. Nor was he one to wish to die alone, tucked away in his office like a sitting duck and bedecked only in his officer's regalia. He'd be the laughing stock of his predecessors, that was for sure. Despite Sergeant Graves' concerned insistence, Duke did not want to be a sitting duck. "Might as well be a well armed duck who don't sit around quackin' like a fool," he'd told the sergeant, much to his subordinate's chagrin.

Duke picked up his own Impaler and cocked it, keeping it level at the doorway that separated them from thousands of zerg critters. "Alright, boys, you know how it works: aim low, short bursts, and stims only when it gets real hot."

They were getting closer now. A horde of zerg, and it's just him and six marines holed up in his command centre, with nothing but their guns, their armor, and definitely balls of steel.

"Gotta say, boys," he then said to his squad, "it's been a real honor being your leader. Couldn't have asked for finer men than all you fellas. Done me real proud."

"So this is it then, is it, sir?" one of them asked, apprehensive. Toomes, his name.

"Yep, I reckon this is it."

"Bet I can gut at least a hunnerd 'fore they get me," Hanson then chimed in, cocking his rifle with eagerness.

"Attaboy, Hanson, you'll get your chance."

And that he did, as the first wave of zerglings came thundering down, screeching for blood. Duke and his men opened up a volley, shredding a tide of zerglings before they could reach. Using this particular corridor as a killzone was decisive; the other exits had been sealed off prior, and this was the only way Kerrigan's minions could reach them. Well, not until she brought in the big ones.

 _Mighty fine day to die, though_ , thought Duke, a smug smile on his face as he let loose another salvo of gauss fire into the oncoming swarm. _Custer'd probably be quaking with jealousy_.

Bullets whizzed continuously until the first clips hit zero. As some of the marines struggled to hammer a new clip in their weapon, one zergling tore its way into Gerry, its claws ripping away at his armor despite his screams of agony and his repeated blows to its head with an armored gauntlet. Two more zerglings charged Graves, goring him like a paper doll. Hanson, laughing wildly not unlike a hyena, threw a few grenades and thinned out the rushing mass with their detonations, but a hydralisk loomed from the smoking wreckage and sent a flurry of needle spines right through Hanson's visor. The remaining marines held their ground, but it was soon over for them as well.

The hydralisk roared, but Duke stood his ground, even as the last of his squad, Cerik, was swarmed with a mass of zerglings that brutally clawed him. They were upon him now, Duke could see the rage and hunger in their eyes...

He sighed, bitterly. _Least folks'll remember how I retired_...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be refining this post at a later time, but here's a quick 'what if' to Duke's final stand on Korhal during the Brood War mission, "True Colors".


End file.
